


Movie Night

by sjofn



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-26
Updated: 2010-12-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 00:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjofn/pseuds/sjofn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The guys watch a verrry bad movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_  
**Movie Night.**   
_

Nathan roared with laughter. He kicked the coffee table in his enthusiasm and sent his beer flying. The bottle smashed against the stone floor at the edge of the rug, splashing the dark beer all over beige wool.

  
 

“Nathan, this movie, it isn’t very good.” Charles stated, trying to be diplomatic.

  
 

“Yeah, it sucks.” Nathan agreed as he cracked another beer, chuckling under his breath at the bizarre scene unfolding onscreen.

  
 

“If it sucks, why did you choose this particular film?” inquired Charles. Interacting with Nathan for years had taught Charles that the only way to truly know why he did anything was to ask him directly.

  
 

“It’s funny. There’s tits. The scene with robots, ninja’s and zombies at the end is hil, uh. hilar, uh, fucking funny. And the lack of plot is brutal. ” Nathan defended the movie whole-heartedly as he methodically finished off the bag of BBQ chips he’d been working on.

  
 

“The protagonist’s cannibalism is unsettling, and I have seen better acting in a porno.”  the C.F.O. complained. Charles had reached the end of diplomacy. An hour into the movie and it promised only to get worse.

  
 

“You laughed at the zombies.” Nathan pointed out through a mouthful of chips.

  
 

“Only because the first three on screen were topless females wearing green body paint, purple wigs, and matching panties. The director of this film was obviously heavily influenced by the adult film industry.” Charles snorted, before tossing back the last of his brandy. “Do you want anything?” He asked as he stood stretching and moved to the side board to pour himself another drink.

  
 

Nathan met Charles's eyes for a long moment. “Nah, I’m good. I have what I want.” He answered before turning his focus back to the movie.

  
 

As Charles poured himself another drink he mused on his ruined rug. The mess wasn’t important. The movie was dreadful, but that didn't really matter. Over the last couple of months he’d become accustomed to beer being spilled in his rooms.

  
 

Nathan had called him one morning and asked him if he wanted to watch a movie that night. He had suggested that they watch it in Charles’s private rooms. The reasoning for that being that the guys were less likely to intrude if they weren’t in the main room. That had been eight weeks ago, and they had gotten together every Friday night since.

  
 

For most of the day Charles had been thinking that Nathan had other plans for this evening. It was Friday night after all; the metal god surely had more exciting things to do than watch movies with an employee. Charles had kept himself running all day, attacking task after task, taking call after call.

  
At seven Nathan walked into his office carrying DVD’s and a bucket of beers. Charles had felt a weight lift from him that he hadn’t even realized he’d been carrying. It had been a startling realization, to suddenly see how much he had come to depend on this time he spent with Nathan. He’d been hoping to avoid thinking about it until after the movie. However this movie wasn’t cutting it in the distraction department.

  
 

“Hey. You gonna stand over there all night?” Nathan asked across the large room with a quizzical look.

  
 

Charles moved to sit back down without saying anything. One of the best things about time spent with Nathan was that they didn’t _have_ to talk. While watching that documentary about medieval architecture, they had a very long and somewhat serious conversation about a myriad of subjects. On the other hand neither one of them had said a single word during the remake of Inglourious Basterds.

  
 

Charles resumed tight control of his brain, ignoring the warmth he could feel radiating from Nathan's large form. He thought about redecorating his living space. A new rug, a heavier coffee table, and a larger couch all would be changes for the better. He enjoyed the picture window, but perhaps some heavy drapery would make the television more visible during the day; the glare made daytime viewing difficult. He had rarely spent much time in these rooms in the past. Perhaps he should make this space more inviting, because he would like it if Nathan spent more time here. At that thought he began to curse his treacherous brain.

  
   
Making himself to focus on the movie required serious focus, likely more than he could muster. The villain was in the process of performing his own wedding ceremony, and the main character had just come through the wall to save the day. Ninja’s and robots burst onto the scene, joining the chaos that was passing as a climatic battle scene. Charles closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch. It would be over soon, and as much as he wanted the movie to end, he didn’t want Nathan to leave. He masochistically began to wonder if the DVD had any special features or extra footage.

  
 

“MORE ZOMBIES! FOR NO ONE CAN DEFEAT MORE ZOMBIES!” Nathan yelled as the credits began to roll. “You were right.” He said as he carefully placed the disc in the case and snapped it closed.

  
 

“About what?” the Charles asked, confused.

  
 

“The guy that directed this used to, maybe still does, direct porn.” Nathan picked up the other movie he brought. “Wanna watch another?” Nathan asked looking at Charles.

  
 

“Sure. How are you doing on beer?” Charles eyed the bucket filled with ice and a variety of beer sitting on the floor near where Nathan had been sitting.

  
 

“I’m good.” Nathan replied as he returned to the small sofa and sat down heavily.

  
 

“May I ask what we are watching?” Charles almost didn’t want to know. It didn’t make a bit of difference what they watched. He took a sip of brandy and made an effort to quell that train of thought. Getting emotional with Nathan would be a very poor decision. He should at least take time sit down while he was sober and really think before he even thought about saying a word on the subject.

  
 

 

“A classic. One of my favorites.” Nathan answered as he stretched his legs out and sprawled across the sofa, invading the other half of the small couch. His knee bumped against Charles’s leg. “Sorry.” He apologized as he settled into a comfortable position not touching, but close enough Charles could feel his body heat from shoulder to knee.

  
 

“It’s alright. It is an unusually small couch.” A hint of a grin crossed Charles’s face for a moment. Then the opening credits began to roll and realization of what he was about to watch hit. The tiny grin morphed into a full blown smile. “This is by far my favorite John Wayne movie.” Charles had a passion for history, especially war history. He had been on tours of historically important battlefields all over the world. He’d stood on the beach of Normandy the last time he’d been in Europe.

  
 

“I know. You mentioned it once.” Nathan turned and fixed his gaze on Charles.

  
 

“When did I mention it?” Charles didn’t remember it coming up in conversation. He wondered if it were another thing that he had mentioned the night he had gotten ‘sloppy’ with the boys. He’d really made a fool of himself that night. He had gotten drunk and become fixated on Nathan. Thankfully his lead singer either didn’t remember or didn’t care.

  
 

“At the launch party for the second album, um, you mentioned it then.” The front man’s tone was low but serious. “Don’t look so shocked. I listen when you talk.” He turned his attention back to the movie.

  
 

“Nathan, that was over ten years ago. I’m just surprised that you remember, all things considered.” Charles was really taken aback. He barely remembered that night. He’d had a few too many drinks while working the room at the label hosted launch party. Nathan had discovered him sitting in the corner trying to will himself sober. The two of them had shared a car back to the hotel. He had no recollection of anything between then and when he’d woken up on the balcony in his hotel room the next day.

  
 

“What happened that night after we left the party?” Charles asked the question though he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer, especially considering his recent drunken reaction to Nathan’s presence.

  
 

“We sat on the balcony in your room and drank and talked until we passed out. I woke up there, asleep on the deck chair. ” Nathan turned as he spoke. He put a large hand on the back of Charles's neck and gave a gentle squeeze before dropping it back to his side and focusing on the movie.

  
 

Charles turned his attention back to the movie. Nathan shifted on the sofa 20 minutes into the movie, pulling Charles over a bit and pulling the blanket off the back of the couch over both of their laps

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Charles continues to be oblivious, Nathan gets upset. Heads up- POV shifts in the middle.

_  
**Movie Night**   
_

 

 

He woke up on his couch the following Saturday. Nathan had gone, but he’d left a three word note on the coffee table. It said, “See you later.”

  
Charles threw himself head long into another 7 day work week. He went on a 5 day press tour to 15 countries promoting the new album. Two years ago the boys had been along for the ride on a similar tour, and the entire thing had been a disaster with one crisis after another. As it was everything had gone smoothly, and he would be arriving at the haus in minutes.

 

Upon arrival his assistant, who had been taking care of the band’s needs in his absence, was waiting to debrief him. As they made their way from the airfield to the haus, Number 607 gave him a status report on the band. He was informed that William and Toki were out shooting target practice with medics and security already standing by. Pickles and Skwisgaar were in the living room working on an extended version of one of the songs from the new album. Nathan was in his room, and he had requested that he not be disturbed unless it was an emergency. He had a feeling that there was something going on with his lead singer.

 

They stopped at the end of the hallway that led toward his rooms. “Thank you 607, you are dismissed. Take the rest of the day off. I’m sure you could use the break.”  

 

His assistant seemed grateful to be cut loose for the rest of the day. He turned and started to walk away. After he had gone only  a few feet he turned back and spoke. “My Lord.” The hooded man inclined his head and waited to be acknowledged.

 

“Yes 607, you have something else?” he asked as he mentally crossed his fingers that it was something that could keep until he had showered and slept a few hours.

 

“Lord Explosion was extremely upset that you neglected to speak with him before you left. I am under the impression that he was not only unaware you would be going anywhere, but was very disturbed by your absence.”

 

“What gave you that impression?” he asked trying to sound neutral, but surely 607 had noticed the urgency in his tone. When nearly everyone you dealt with on a daily basis wore a hood obscuring their face, one learned to pay close attention to tonal clues.

 

“He completely destroyed the board room, and then ordered that he be informed when you returned. He spent the duration of your trip in his room, refusing to admit anyone other than at mealtimes. I have already informed him of your arrival, and he intends to see you at once."

 

“Thank you for the, ah, heads up. Have a good afternoon.” He dismissed 607 and made his way to his rooms. He would forego sleep until he had spoken with Nathan. However rushing through a shower was a necessity. Twenty-eight hours inside this suit was more than enough.

 

As he turned off the water there was an impatient  knocking at his door. Toweling off before grabbing the first items of clothing at hand, he dressed quickly. Flannel pants, a t-shirt and his bathrobe were better than answering the door in a towel. He rushed to the door, opening it just in time to catch Nathan as he turned to walk away.

“Please come in.” Charles offered. The other man stood in the doorway staring intensely for a few moments before he entered the room. He ducked his head as he crossed the threshold, his dark hair falling in front of his face like a curtain.

 

“You didn't say goodbye. You didn't even tell me you were leaving.” Nathan’s tone was accusatory and flat. He seemed calm, but Charles knew that he was actually far from it. Nathan was in fact dangerously close to losing his temper.

 

“Nathan, I apologize. I thought I had mentioned it to you.” He laid a hand on the singers arm. “I would never deliberately upset you.”

 

He hoped that Nathan would accept his apology, even as he tried to wrap his mind around what exactly had upset the front man. Nathan was standing too close, invading his personal space, and preventing him from thinking. "To be clear the reason you are upset with me is because I left without saying goodbye?" he asked in an even tone. It was possible after all that he'd completely misunderstood what the front man had been trying to communicate.

 

After glaring at Charles as if he were an idiot, or a possibly a seven headed dog, for several awkward minutes Nathan finally spoke. "Yeah. I... it.. um Yeah." He trailed off into silence his face clouded with emotion. The two men stood in heavy silence for a few more minutes. The intensity of Nathan's stare was making Charles strangely nervous.  "Don't do it again. Ever. Please." the front man finished.

 

"I won't.' Charles agreed immediately. He thought  that if he could just get some sleep all of this would make more sense in the morning.

 

“Good. Don't. Uh. I should let you, I mean, uh, I should go. You’re busy. Bye.” with that Nathan turned to leave.

 

“Movie tomorrow night?” Charles asked as Nathan’s hand came to rest on the door knob. He wanted to put the boots to himself as soon as the question left his mouth. Lack of sleep, jet lag, and the unsettling feeling of knowing he had upset Nathan were all serving to make thinking clearly impossible. He had planned on waiting for Nathan to ask or possibly show up. There was no taking it back; he hoped Nathan didn’t tell him to fuck off or worse.

Nathan looked back over his shoulder and opened his mouth to speak, and then he closed it. After a moment he grunted, “Yeah. Later. Bye.” before pulling the door open and leaving the room.

 

******************************************************************

This week Nathan shows up at 530 with a bottle of 30 year old scotch and the original Star Wars Trilogy. The C.F.O. had admitted to the singer that he'd never seen them several weeks prior. He attempted to continue working after the frontman arrived in his office. After only a few minutes he conceded to himself that Nathan’s presence on his couch was far too distracting. He gave up on working and started locking down his desk and computer for the night.

 

Nathan seemed subdued as they walked towards Charles’s rooms. He could never be considered chatty, but he usually said at least a few words in greeting. So far he hadn’t uttered a single syllable since he had arrived in the office.

 

Immediately upon walking into the living area Charles retrieved two rocks glasses from the sideboard and poured them both a three-finger drink. Nathan had gone straight to the DVD player and started Episode IV. Within moments they were seated side-by-side on the unusually small sofa watching the opening scene.

 

Charles could sense that Nathan was spending more time watching him than he was watching the movie. He knew that the front man would talk when ready, and not before. The large muscular arm that draped itself around his shoulders took him by surprise. Not that he minded one bit, in fact he inched a little closer in order to lean against Nathan’s side. As the movie progressed they had moved closer to each other. Charles was so wrapped up in the storyline that he was startled when Nathan’s breath ghosted over his neck when he whispered, “Hey,” while Han and Luke received their medals.

 

“Hey.” he rumbled again softly.

 

Charles turned and met Nathan’s eyes. They shared another few seconds of intense eye contact before he spoke, “Yes?”

 

Nathan hesitated before he spoke. “If I get up and put in the second movie, will you get up and pour another round of drinks? " the lead singer asked as he removed his arm from around the smaller man and stood up.  

Charles suspected that Nathan had been intending to say something else, but had changed his mind at the last moment. When he returned with the bottle Nathan had already resumed his seat on the couch. Charles sat and leaned forward to pour the drinks. He handed one to Nathan and settled back to watch Episode V.

   
Yoda was giving Luke lessons on becoming a Jedi Knight when Nathan's arm snaked around Charles's shoulders. The metal god's response to the questioning glance shot in his direction was to haul the smaller man into his lap and press a brief kiss against his mouth.

   
“What was that for?” Charles questioned his heart racing. He had never imagined that Nathan would kiss him. The few times he had allowed himself to visualize it, he had imagined that he had initiated it only to be later rejected, subsequently ruining all of their lives.

 “For a smart guy, you can be thick. Really thick.” Nathan answered as he leaned back in for another kiss.

 

  
 

  



	3. Movie Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set during the same time as the second chapter but from Nathan's view point.

_  
**Movie Night part 3/4**   
_

  
Nathan was pissed. Far beyond pissed really, he had freaked out on Klokateer 607 and destroyed the boardroom. The lead singer stomped towards his room. He fucking hated getting this angry. He had stopped hurling furniture at the walls when he remembered that Charles _had_ told him. He had told them all he would be going, during the last band meeting. Nathan just hadn’t remembered at first. He had been a little distracted during the last band meeting. The realization had stopped his furniture throwing tantrum dead.

Fuck. Just fuck. What the FUCK! It had become a mantra, running rhythmically through his mind as he barreled down the hallways of the haus. The door slammed and he locked it behind himself. Throwing himself onto his bed he grabbed a bottle from the nightstand. Whiskey. Good. A long pull calmed him. He just sat drinking for a few minutes focusing on the whiskey burn that was blossoming through his chest.

Once he calmed down he realized that 607 had just been the messenger. There had been no real reason to fly off the handle, this shit sucked. He had overreacted badly in front of everyone. The band wasn’t supposed to care, but he knew that they would all want to know what the fuck all that had been about. They had all still been just standing there when he fled the room. Fucking Pickles knew exactly what had happened. Nathan decided that he couldn’t think about that. If Pickles ran his mouth then he would deal with it, but he wasn’t going to drive himself crazy. He sent a text to 607 requesting that the assistant come to his room. He couldn’t stand the idea of seeing any of the guys. God, when had he turned into such a pussy. He sat down on the bed and leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes. He thought about what he wanted to say and waited.

Less than five minutes later a knock at his door alerted him that 607 was in the hallway.  
“My lord, what do you require?” 607 queried when Nathan open the door.

“Uh. Come in. I don’t want to talk in the hall.” the front man said. 607 followed him closing the door behind them. He stopped a few feet inside and stood waiting for Nathan to speak.

After a minute the front man spoke. “Uh. Don’t tell Offdensen I threw a fit when you talk to him. I, uh, over, overreacted. He’ll worry. I’m sorry I yelled at you. This wasn’t your fault. I just, he, I, Ok, Whatever. ” Nathan hated that he had such a hard time expressing himself. It sucked.

“Of course my lord, shall I ask him to call you when I speak with him next?’ 607 questioned.

“No. It can wait until he's home. Let me know when he gets back.” The front man said.

“Will that be all, my lord?” 607 inquired.

“Yeah. Wait. No. I don’t want anyone bothering me this week. Cancel everything.” Nathan sank back onto his bed.

“I’ll see that you are not disturbed, and I will notify you when Lord Offdensen returns.” 607 assured the front man before turning to exit the room.  
　

In the nine months that Charles had been gone, dead as far as the world knew, Nathan had done a lot of thinking. He had assumed control of the seventh largest economy on earth attempting to keep it all going. It had been hell, and he hadn’t been able to hack it. The rest of the band had been no help at all.

During that period it had become very apparent just how much he had taken his CFO for granted, professionally and personally.

For the first few years they had been friends. They ate together, saw movies together, and got drunk together. They had toured constantly for nearly 3 years. It had been brutal, but they had made a lot of money. The memories he had of those days were filled with Charles. All day, every day, really. As their popularity had grown, distance had formed between them. He hadn’t liked it, but also hadn’t done anything about it. There was nothing to be done really. Charles was too busy running things to pal around, and he really couldn’t be upset at the guy for doing his job.

The thought that he was gone, that there wouldn’t be a chance to ever tell him anything ever again, had eaten Nathan alive. He hadn’t ever one time told Charles how important he was, and then he had fucking died. He’d talked to Pickles about it one night when the two of them were drunk. He had fucking cried about it. The drummer had fed him more booze and tried to comfort him. The two of them had never spoken of it, but Nathan knew he remembered it.

Then the CFO had returned, appearing only seconds after Nathan had given up all hope of standing up to the label. He had been so fucking happy to see Charles. It had been overwhelming. Joy wasn’t metal, but it was the only word close to describing how he had felt in that moment. After the second half of the performance his facial muscles had ached from not smiling.

The rest of the band, and Charles too, it seemed, had fallen back into routine like nothing had ever happened. It hadn’t been so simple for Nathan. He couldn’t un-realize how he felt. Being in the same room with the other man had been difficult at first. Nathan had been unable to concentrate, distracted by the CFO’s physical presence. Self control wasn’t a strong point and the urge to touch Charles was hard to resist. The intensity of his grief started making a lot more sense to him. He fucking loved the guy, of course he had been fucked up over his supposed death. That was normal right?

The front man had begun seeking Charles out, spending as much time in his presence as possible. The other man’s willingness to put anything and everything aside to talk to him about whatever bullshit he could come up with gave Nathan hope.

He came up with the idea that they should watch a movie together. When he called and asked Charles had agreed readily.

The tiny couch in his living room had been an unexpected bonus. It was nearly impossible for a guy Nathan’s size to stay on his half. He relished the opportunity to be so close to the other man. It had been a good night all around, the only rough spot was when he had knocked a lamp off of the end table. He’d expected a lecture, but Charles hadn’t really seemed to care. The following week Nathan asked him after the weekly band meeting if he wanted to get together again. It had turned into a weekly thing, and as far as Nathan was concerned it was the best part of his weeks.

This morning Nathan had woken up on the tiny sofa with a sleeping Charles leaning against his chest. He had his arm around the smaller man. It had been fucking perfect.

The scar where that bastard had cut his face was visible, and Nathan hadn’t been able to resist tracing it with a fingertip. Scars were metal. Being so close to the guy was just too much. He didn't want to screw this up. Resisting the urge to kiss his sleeping friend, he carefully extracted himself from the sofa. Nathan had scrawled a quick goodbye onto a napkin and gone back to his room to finish sleeping.

The week passed slowly. Nathan stayed in his room. He had no desire to deal with his band mates. Pickles texted on Tuesday to see if he was interested in joining the band in attempt to drink an entire barrel of wine. He had declined claiming that he was already very drunk.

He had no idea what he was going to say Charles.

On Thursday 607 sent him a text message notifying him Charles would be arriving at the haus in 5 minutes. He replied that Charles should be informed to expect him. Nathan paced around his room for nearly 20 minutes trying to figure out what he was going to say. He finally gave up and just went to Charles’s rooms and knocked on the door. He waited a minute with no answer and was turning to walk away when the door opened.

“Please come in.” Charles said motioning Nathan through the door way.

Dumbfounded by the sight of the other man it took a moment for his words to register with Nathan. He let his hair fall in front of his face to give himself a moment to recover. Charles had showered recently, his hair was wet. He looked like he was ready for bed. He wasn’t wearing his glasses. He was too fucking hot.

“You didn't say goodbye. You didn't even tell me you were leaving.” The singer spoke without preamble. He hadn’t been able to prepare himself for this at all. He had so much he wanted to say, but the words just weren’t there.

“Nathan, I apologize. I thought I had mentioned it to you.” Charles said softly, he reached out and touched the singers arm. “I would never deliberately upset you.” he finished.

Nathan found himself standing inside Charles personal bubble. The smaller man had no idea the effect he had on the front man. It was taking all of Nathan’s self control to keep his hands to himself.

"To be clear the reason you are upset with me is because I left without saying goodbye?" Charles asked not breaking eye contact.

Nathan wanted not to have to talk. He tried to gather his thoughts, but it was hard to do with Charles so close. His brain had short circuited. "Yeah. I... it.. um Yeah." He tried to start. Good Job Explosion, he told himself. Why the hell did it have to be so hard to talk. "Don't do it again. Ever. Please." Nathan finally managed to get out.

"I won't.' Charles agreed.

Nathan noticed how tired Charles looked. The guy needed to sleep. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his face drawn.

“Good. Don't. Uh. I should let you, I mean, uh, I should go. You’re busy. Bye.” Nathan stammered out as he turned to leave.

“Movie tomorrow night?” Charles asked the front man reached the door.

The tone of Charles’s voice made Nathan’s heart beat a little faster. He sounded like he really wanted Nathan to say yes, and like he was expecting him to say no. Looking back over his shoulder he took in the sight of Charles in his bathrobe barefoot one more time before answering, “Yeah. Later. Bye.”  
　

The next day Nathan spent the morning and the first part of the afternoon with the band. No one mentioned the tantrum he’d thrown, but it had been nearly a week and the collective attention span of Dethklok was short. 

Around 3pm he decided to go take a shower so his hair would have time to dry. A little after 5, Nathan decided that he would just go to Charles office. He would wait until the CFO was finished working.  



	4. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>  Nathan's does some thinking, smut happens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up right where part 3 left off.

_  
**Movie Night**   
_

 

  
  


Nathan’s mind raced as they made their way to Charles’s rooms. He had expected to wait for much longer than just a few minutes, and was still trying to find the words to tell the other man how he felt. At least they had more than 6 hours of movie time ahead of them. He could think about it while they watched, and hopefully he would come up with something.

The lead singer went straight to the DVD player and put in A New Hope, and moved to sit on the couch. The other man removed his tie and jacket upon entering his quarters. He stepped out of his shoes and moved to the sideboard to pour the drinks. The singer pressed play as soon as Charles had seated himself. Nathan took a small sip of the scotch, and he took in the sight of Charles sans tie, jacket, and shoes settling into the sofa. The smaller man moved in an almost feline manner. Each movement of his body was fluid and precise.

Charles was paying close attention to the movie, giving Nathan time to think about what he wanted to say. He wasn’t thinking about it though. He was watching Charles watch Star Wars for the first time. The manager was immersed in the movie, the front man hadn’t seen him so relaxed and unguarded in years.

　

The last time had been years ago, back when he could still go out in public without a platoon of armed guards. The band had made plans to go to a show their second to last night in Stockholm. The rest of the guys had decided at the last minute not to go. It had ended up being just the two of them. That night had been fucking fantastic. The bands had been good, though the sound had been a little too melodic in his opinion. He and Charles had spent the first set at the bar and the rest of the show in the pit. Nathan mentioned that it would be awesome if they could go backstage while they were in line at the bar before the last set. Charles had disappeared sometime during the last set, returning during the encore with two backstage passes and four shots.

By the time they had returned to the hotel, the kitchen had started serving breakfast. Nathan didn’t remember what they talked about during the meal, but he remembered that Charles had jam at the corner of his mouth for most of it.

Nathan had an epiphany. This thing that was between them had been there since the beginning. He had been fixated on his manager’s mouth ten years ago. Charles was a different guy when the two of them were alone. The lead singer had always thought that the other man was just an affectionate drunk. He had come to realize he was the only recipient of Charles drunken attentions. He took another sip of his scotch as he processed.

After taking another look at the other man’s rapt expression he made a decision. He was going to have to go for it. It was clear that Charles was never going to do it. He also knew he was never going to find the words to properly express himself. Maybe a test was in order; he could start small and go from there.

He stretched his arm around Charles shoulders, letting his hand rest on the other mans arm. The front man tensed for a moment waiting for a reaction, and grinned like an idiot when the other man scooted closer and leaned into his side. Nathan was on cloud fucking nine. Forcing himself to relax, he was content to just enjoy the moment. He didn’t want to rush things, he would not fuck this up.

The lead singer attempted to just sit back and watch the movie, but couldn’t keep his eyes off of the smaller man. Charles really hadn’t ever seen the Star Wars movies and the front man thought the play of emotions across the his face was one of the most unexpectedly sexy things he had ever seen. During the attack on the Death Star, when Nathan shifted in his seat, Charles shifted as well, closing the gap that had formed between them when Nathan moved. The end result was that their upper bodies were now sort of overlapping.

As the final scene of the movie was drawing to a close Nathan leaned down and whispered against his managers ear. “Hey…” He paused for a moment and then started again “Hey…” he trailed off again.

Charles turned his head to meet Nathan’s eyes, and the front man studied the expression on the other man’s face carefully. “If I get up and put in the second movie, uh, will you get up and pour another round of drinks?" Nathan finished in a low tone as he removed his arm from around the other man.

Charles didn’t say anything he simply stood and walked across the room to retrieve the liquor. By the time he returned to the couch the front man had taken his seat and was waiting, remote in hand, to start The Empire Strikes Back. Charles sat down and leaned forward to pour the scotch, he hand a glass to Nathan, who immediately pressed play.

As the movie began Nathan contemplated his next move. He sipped at his second drink for a few minutes, watching as Han went out and rescued Luke on the ice planet Hoth. He finished his drink and poured himself another one. He realized how stupid it was that he was just sitting there not touching Charles at all. They had just spent nearly two hours fucking cuddled up together on this tiny couch. Why was he worrying about this? He was afraid of fucking up and losing Charles, but he had already lost him once. Eventually he came to a decision. Life was just too fucking short to let fear rule him. He put his arm back around Charles and pulled him a little closer.

Something inside Nathan snapped at the questioning look Charles shot him. The look didn’t say ‘what are you doing?’ The look said ‘I don’t understand.’ Nathan seriously couldn’t take it anymore. How could he not understand. Was it only obvious to Nathan how he felt? Sure, he’d never said anything, but for months he had been pathetically and painfully obvious in his affection for the other man.

He hauled the smaller man onto his lap pulling him close and pressing their mouths together. As much as he wanted to deepen this kiss, he pulled back after only seconds to give Charles a chance to react. His heart hammered away in his chest as he waited for the other man to say something, anything.

“What was that for?” the CFO asked, dazed. His lips were slightly parted and his face flushed.

“For a smart guy, you can be thick. Really thick.” Nathan spoke softly in a playful tone. He loved the look on Charles face. He memorized the moment, knowing that he would remember it for the rest of his fucking life.

Nathan brought their mouths together again, his tongue tracing lightly at the seam of Charles’s mouth seeking entry. Charles granted it to him and turned in Nathan’s arms to fully face him.

Nathan had never been so turned on in his life. Kissing Charles was fucking perfect. Why the fuck had he waited so long to do it? Charles threw his leg over the larger man’s legs and moved to straddle Nathan’s lap. The kiss deepened as Nathan continued to map the inside of Charles mouth. He ran his hands over the lean muscular body the suits hid so well. He didn’t break this kiss until his brain was screaming for oxygen. Nathan could feel Charles’s cock hard against his thigh. Nathan switched gears. He half stood, turning them so that he was covering the smaller man. Charles pulled Nathan back to his mouth by the hair. The manager’s mouth opened wide under Nathan’s as he wrapped his legs around the lead singers waist, bringing their arrousals together. They were both still fully clothed, and that had to change. Nathan started working on the buttons on Charles dress shirt, he gave up quickly and just ripped the shirt open sending buttons flying across the room. Nathan sat up and shed his t-shirt, then hooking the bottom of Charles’s undershirt with is finger’s Nathan pulled it over the other mans head. The CFO put Toki to shame, he was in really great shape. The scar from the arrow caught Nathan’s attention. He reached out and traced it with his fingers before letting his hand continue to the waist of Charles slacks. He had a much easier time with the belt and pants than the shirt. Impatient hands worked at his belt unsuccessfully as he kissed, licked and bit his way from the scar back to the other man’s mouth. It felt so fucking good to finally be touching Charles.

Charles was the first to speak. “Nathan.” He gasped as the front man bit lightly at his collarbone. “Can we lose the rest of the clothes?” he asked, his tone desperate.

Nathan had never heard a better idea. He untangled himself from the smaller man and stood pushing his jeans and underwear down in one go. He watched in a lustful fog as Charles lifted his hips and pushed his boxers down and off onto the floor.

Seeing Charles spread out before him naked, with kiss-swollen lips was almost too much for the lead singer. Nathan met the other man’s eyes, and was rewarded with a blinding smile. Charles held out a hand to him, and when the lead singer took it he found himself being pulled back onto the smaller man who chuckled as the lead singer collapsed on top of him. Nathan groaned as Charles legs tightened around his hips, causing their cocks to slide against one another, and the friction was all it took to set the front man to grinding in earnest. The lead singer devoured Charles’s mouth as they moved against each other frantically. Charles’s hands were raking up and down Nathan’s broad back and shouders, as he panted and rocked against the singer.

“So fucking good, I’ve fucking wanted this forever.” Nathan growled out.

At his words Charles shuddered and came, and in his arrival he took the lead singer over the edge with him.

For several minutes they lay in a sticky sweaty tangle of limbs and long black hair.

“I’ve wanted you since the day I met you.” Charles admitted in a post-coital haze. “I just never thought, I mean I never thought that you would want me.”

Nathan had finally figured out what he wanted to say. “I am pretty sure that I have, uh, always wanted you. Even when I didn’t know I wanted you. Listen to me. You are important, and not just to Dethklok. To me. Personally. I’ve had a taste of my life without you, and it was empty.” As he finished speaking, he stood up offering Charles a hand up. “Shower?” He asked.

The CFO nodded in agreement and accepted the hand up.

 

 


End file.
